


Heaviness

by cripplingmoon



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Blood, Gen, Injured Dyn, Injured Mando, Mando doesn’t consent, Removing of Helmet, it’s to save his life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-11
Updated: 2019-12-11
Packaged: 2021-02-17 22:03:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21750454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cripplingmoon/pseuds/cripplingmoon
Summary: Dyn is injured and it requires his helmet to be removed. Can you go against his tradition to save his life?
Relationships: The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV) & Reader, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/You
Comments: 11
Kudos: 177





	Heaviness

**Author's Note:**

> This came about from the discord chat. If you guys read this i hope it is what you were looking for. Please forgive me it’s been a long time since I haven’t written and first time for a character & reader/you fic.
> 
> It isn’t very long but I’ve kinda got an idea for a second chapter or a part 2! Or how you and Mando met. I just love this man so much.
> 
> No beta any mistakes are my own.

It feels like it is all happening in slow motion. One second you are whistling the child a tune you picked up from a cantina a few planets back, while screwing in the last bolt in a panel you have been repairing. The next moment you are watching a bloody Dyn walk past you to the child in the co-pilot seat. Once he is sure the child is safe he turns to you. You watch as a steady drip of blood flows from under his helmet and onto the floor. The _drip drip_ of it thunders in your ears. The side of his helmet blown into bits of shrapnel, exposing tufts of brown. 

“What the fuck happened, Dyn?” You finally snap out of your immediate panic, rushing to his side. He clasps your shoulder roughly, putting some weight into you. 

He grunts, “Had to make sure...both are okay.” He coughs and it rattles his helmet. 

“You gotta take care of your head wound, you’ll blee-“ before you can finish, the full weight of the Mandalorian is slowly tipping you over. A last second effort, you brace the wall of the small walkway and lower him down. “Dyn, Dyn, h-hey?” You shake him roughly. “Mando, don’t do this!” 

Suddenly, you hear the child make panicky noises when he sees Dyn laying unconscious under you. ”Hey, it’s alright little one, I am going to fix him all up.” 

Fear settling heavy in your bones, you asses the situation. He doesn’t seem to be injured much anywhere else, couple of scrapes and torn fabric but the major issue is his head. In this position crimson has started to flow from the open hole in his helmet. You know what you have to do but your body won’t move. _Dammit...he’s going to bleed to death._

Finally, forcing your muscles to give up their hold, you run to the sleeping cabin to grab a blanket and on the way back you snatch the first aid kit from the cabinet beside his bed.

Back at his side, you place the blanket over his upper half and with eyes closed you lift the helmet off his head, the heaviness behind what you are doing makes your arms feel like lead weights. You are taking away the one thing Dyn has dedicated his whole life to in the span of 30 seconds. You fear he my never forgive you as you feel the clink of the helmet hit the floor. With shaky hands, you search for the edge of the cloth and bring it up as far as you think it needs, without using your site to judge. You feel every ridge and plane of his face, strong nose, softly chapped lips and the bristle of facial hair.

Once you get the blanket where you want it, deep breath, _inhale and exhale_ , you open your eyes. 

The cloth was just above his nose, covering his right eye but enough skin is exposed that you feel guilt pool in your belly again. You can’t help but stare at his bare face, skin as warm as the setting sun and his smooth brown locks, curly from sweat and the helmet. You quietly wished he’d open his eyes in that moment, deducing that they are just as rich and brown as his hair. A gurgle from beside you snaps you out of your daze and you set quickly to fix his head wound. Once the bleeding has stopped, you stitch up the broken skin and clean as much as you can before wrapping his head in gauze to keep it protected. With one last look you gently place the blanket over his head completely. You use left over gauze to wipe your hands and toss them into the corner. You can’t stop staring at the blood and...and can’t stop thinking about... _him._

One final look and you lean down to scoop up the child and carry him over to the captains chair. You sit down with your back to Dyn to let him rest and incase he wakes up. The child murmurs as he rests against you. “Your dad will be okay, he’s the toughest guy I know. Right?” You ask, not particularly expecting a response. You start humming quietly to him to help calm the child, you know he’s worried. Despite being so young, he cares more about Dyn than you have ever seen someone care about anything, and vice versa. You’ve been with Dyn for almost one year now but once that child came into the picture, Dyn was a completely different person. You could tell his priorities changed and he did anything to protect the child. Dyn treated him like his own blood son. 

After a few hours, you hear Dyn coming to life behind you. His voice is pained and clear without the helmet. He lets out a soft groan that tears right though you. You scrunch you’re face up to ease the sting of tears and curl the child closer. You hear the familiar rustling of armor as Dyn stands, huffing no doubt from the pain in his head. You flinch at the scrap of the helmet as he lifts it off the floor. You are so scared to tell him, Dyn trusts you and in your eyes (and surly his) you broke that trust. 

You glance down at the child and he peeps at you quietly. With a sigh, you square your shoulder and lift your head and speak into the quiet in front of you. “I had to remove your helmet.” 

Your blood runs cold when he doesn’t speak and you hear no movement. Hesitantly you turn in the seat and notice he is staring at you, helmet back in its spot. You can’t see his face to read his thoughts and his normally emotive body is pin straight. 

“I kept your face as covered as I could-“ you rush out as you stand and step forward. “Dyn, I couldn’t let you die. You w-were bleeding so much from your head.” 

A pause as you stop gesturing and you keep your eyes on the child. “I know you must be so angry and my guilt is eating me alive but I...I” you stop again when you see movement from him coming closer to you. You panic and start backing away. He has never hurt you before, never even laid a finger on you unless accidental but in this moment you were frightened. When your back hits the chair you can go no further, trapped. The blood in your veins hums wildly in your ears as Dyn’s arms come out and softy wrap around your shoulder and waist. 

“Thank you.” He says so quietly his helmets vocoder barley picks it up. He has always been a man of few words and true to hisself that’s all he says. The weight of his words are enough to set you at ease. The child between you purrs in response and it settles the storm in your belly. You remove one of your trapped arms and return the Mandalorians embrace. You can physically feel the tension and weight of a lifetime of being anonymous slosh off Dyn like he’s shedding old skin. A new level of trust is formed and you both know your relationship will never be the same. You can honestly say that the thought intrigues you.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Drop a comment or kudo if you deam it worthy!


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